


our destruction

by GettingGreyer



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Doctor (Doctor Who), Angry Sex, Bottom Master (Dhawan), Bottom Master (Doctor Who), Choking, Dark Doctor (Doctor Who), F/M, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, Pegging, Referenced Time War (Doctor Who), Rough Sex, Telepathy, Time War Angst (Doctor Who), Top Doctor (Doctor Who), Top Thirteenth Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22221001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettingGreyer/pseuds/GettingGreyer
Summary: The Doctor has just seen the destruction wrought by the Master on Gallifrey and she is filled with rage and anguish. Ever since seeing the planet all she can think of is the Time War and her own sin during the conflict. She seeks out the Master in an attempt to seek answers, as well as to punish both of them for their destructive sins.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 113





	our destruction

**Author's Note:**

> I've read this fic a million times now, so I hope I caught any spelling or grammatical errors but if I mised anything please inform me so I can correct it. I especially struggle with constantly changing tenses during my writing, so if you see any of that please allow me to correct it.

The Master had been wandering through the empty void of the Kasaavin's realm—abandoned and alone—when suddenly there was a burst of light, the call of the Doctor's TARDIS, and the Master found himself slammed against a console. The metal sharply hit him against his back and he groaned in pain. He was dazed for a moment, still caught up in the whirlwind of movement, but then he looked up and saw _her_ towering over him, a feral look in her eyes as her teeth snarled.

"I didn't think you'd come back for me," The Master meant the words to come out haughty and mocking, but his vulnerability and desperation leaked through his bravado and onto deaf ears. He was happy she had returned, even if she looked angry enough to kill. "I take it that you saw Gallifrey."

The Doctor's hands clenched into the fabric of the Master's coat and her body shook with barely controlled rage. "Why?" The words were whispered, but they rippled like a storm through the air as they pulsated with danger. "Why did you do it? What is the truth about the Timeless Child?"

The Master didn't respond. He looked away, his face barren of glee or triumph at the destruction. He looked broken, but the Doctor couldn't find it in herself to care at that moment. She pulled him to her, until their faces were mere inches apart—and then slammed him back into the TARDIS console, "Answer me!"

He didn't look at her—why wouldn't he look at her? It enraged the Doctor—and he spoke with a resolved bitterness that the Doctor knew she couldn't break. "I told you before, Doctor. I'm not making it easy. You'll have to find out yourself." He then turned his eyes to the Doctor—they were shining with something the Doctor couldn't recognize at that moment; all she could see was his arrogance.

He had destroyed an entire world—their home!—and he didn't care.

The Doctor shook with rage and the TARDIS' interior turned a pulsating crimson red, bathing the two of them in the color of blood and fire—Gallifrey's colors. The Doctor's hazel eyes turned menacing in the light and her hands raised like clawed daggers towards the Master's face.

He thought she might kill him. She looked as if she was too enraged to care about her morals or the consequences. The Master closed his eyes, waiting for her to hurt him, but then he felt lips slam against his as her hands tore into his hair.

She wasn't gentle. She pulled at his hair and pulled him towards her as she bit into his lip. He gasped in pain as blood sprouted from the newly made cut. The Doctor's tongue stroked his lips and she moaned against the taste of his blood.

The Master tried to move his hands to touch her—like the Doctor was touching him—but she pushed his arms away. The rejection hurt, but he forced his arms to remain still and focused on the Doctor's body on him. It had to be enough just to have her like this.

The Doctor's hands ran up his chest and then she roughly tore his coat off of him, the fabric tearing at its seams from the brutal force. Her lips moved away from his, which were bruised and red, and she began to nip at his ear. He was always sensitive there and the Doctor knew that; he tried to keep his voice silent but the Doctor's tongue and teeth pulled a soft moan from his lips. The Doctor smirked at the sound, but there was no softness in her expression, only feral anger.

"You destroyed it," the Doctor growled into the Master's ears—images of a world on fire flashed through their minds in telepathic unison. The Doctor's gentle nipping turned harsh and aggressive as she bit the Master's neck. "Do you still like this?" The Doctor asked as she sucked and licked at the bite mark. "Of course, you do." She confirmed as she felt his hardened member, tight and constrained against his trousers.

There was a small part of the Doctor that knew she should stop, but every other cell of the Doctor's being burned against it. Her mind was still flooded with the sight of Gallifrey on fire; she couldn't discern which memories were hers or the Master's—which destruction she had wrought and which she had let happen when she turned away. The planet was bleeding throughout her mind and she couldn't escape it. She couldn't run, so now she had the Master in her arms and she wanted to …

She moved their bodies and slammed him roughly to the floor. He was strong enough to resist, if he wanted to, but he was letting the Doctor take control. The Master wanted her to do this.

"Do you hear their screams?" The Doctor closed her eyes as the screams of Gallifrey fell over both of their minds. He had caused this! Her hand reached for the Master's throat she squeezed. Worlds were burning beneath their eyelids as the cries of a million civilizations died. The symphony of the Time War had haunted the Doctor for centuries, but the song has finally ended—giving her peace and clarity for but a brief moment—only to abruptly return.

She opened her eyes, but the chorus of dead worlds kept singing in her mind. The Master was entirely still, his throat struggled against her hand as he tried to breath, but he kept his hands firmly and deliberately by his side. The Doctor didn't look at his face, but she could hear his pained expression. She had destroyed Gallifrey and now she was destroying him. She pressed her lips against his and finally released his neck.

Her kiss was consuming and she took everything she could from his lips. He struggled to match her frenzied pace as she stroked and nipped. She finally moved away from his lips, moving down to the bite on his neck. The Master wanted more—he needed the Doctor to take everything from him.

"Punish me, Doctor." He nearly whined when he spoke. "Make me forget."

The Doctor wanted to stop everything as she remembered the questions she wanted to be answered. He wanted to forget, but what—what he learned about the Timeless Child? Or perhaps even he was capable of feeling guilt for his acts against Gallifrey. She threw away that thought. She was tired of waiting for the Master to change. She was tired of remembering as well—they could both use some forgetting. 

"Turn around," the Doctor growled into his ear and she could feel his cock twitch under her in excitement as he realized what she had in mind.

She lifted herself off of him and went to a drawer in another room as he turned around. She looked at the various sizes of artificial devices and appraised them silently. Ultimately she decided on a medium-size—it had been a while since she'd done this and she assumed the same of the Master. She grabbed a bottle of lube as well and returned to find the Master waiting and ready.

He had removed his trousers and pants, leaving them discarded beside him next to his other clothes. And his ass was raised and perky, ready for the Doctor. Her own body felt elated at the sight and it was only then that the Doctor finally noticed the increasing wetness between her thighs. She had been neglecting her own new body for far too long.

"Impatient, aren't we?" The Doctor whispered into the Master's ear as she maneuvered the strap-on onto her body. She pressed the tip slightly against his opening and he shuddered beneath her.

She kissed his back as she poured lube onto her fingers. She had never been so excited in this body before and her clit was throbbing beneath the strap. She pushed a single finger into his hole and his reaction was instantaneous. He groaned at the minimal contact and his cock grew harder with arousal.

"More!"

The Doctor removed her finger and he whined. "You're not in any position to make demands." The Doctor's fingertip gently entered his asshole, but she stopped before the first knuckle went through leaving the Master painfully empty. "Say my name."

The memory of the Master forcing her to kneel was both arousing and humiliating—she wanted him to feel the same. She pressed her mind against his and she could feel his own arousal, but not nearly enough desperation.

"Doctor," the Master spoke. The words forcing themselves through ground teeth.

The Doctor smiled with glee as she spoke again, "I can't hear you."

"Doctor!"

"One more time."

The Master growled, but his next words were loud, needy, desperate, and utterly humiliating—everything the Doctor wanted from him, "Doctor, please fuck me."

She pushed her finger in and with it, a second finger, and the Master responded exactly as she wanted him too. He mewled and arched his back, but it wasn't nearly enough for either of them. The Doctor was getting increasingly wet and her clit was throbbing with its own desperation. She stretched her fingers, testing the Master's tightness as her other hand worked to spread lube over the silicone member.

"Hurry up, Doctor!" She rolled her eyes at the Master's comment, but she couldn't stop the genuine smile from reaching her lips. They both wanted this—wanted each other, though they'd deny it.

She moved her fingers one last time, stretching his hole, and once she was satisfied she removed them and quickly pushed the strap-on into the Master. A pained moan was ripped from his throat and the Doctor roughly pressed further in, the movement caused the strap to press against her clit and her own moans joined the Master's.

The Master's voice was its own symphony and it silenced the screams in her mind. She pushed further in, before quickly pulling back and slamming forward once more. Her movements were erratic and forceful, she focused on the sensation against her clit as she listened to the Master's grunts. 

His voice was electrifying and every moan sent another sensation of pleasure through her. His voice became ragged the faster she moved, but it also became less pleasured and more pained. He grunted in agony and she forced herself to slow down—guilt ran through her because she found those noises of pain far more arousing than any of his pleasured moans so far. 

His whimpers, cries, and screams were everything she needed in this moment. She wanted him to hurt and she wanted to be the one to hurt him, but she also wanted him to enjoy it all.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was too kind—they weren't friends anymore, even if that thought hurt—and she forced her voice to become colder. "Not too rough for you?" 

The Master laughed and the Doctor wanted to smack him for it. "You really do care." She began to deny it, but he spoke before she could. "I like the pain," he pressed his ass backwards, forcing the strap further in. "Keep going, Doctor."

Excited and relieved, the Doctor moved quicker. She found a rhythm to her movements as she thrusted, making sure that it rubbed against her clit. She wanted to experience pleasure as the Master felt pain.

He could no longer hold his head up and let it rest against the cold floor as the Doctor rammed into his ass. His moans turned rougher and higher, transitioning into whimpered grunts and the Doctor reveled in the noise. She could hardly remember what they needed to forget. But beneath his voice was the sound of another—and she had to run from it all.

She reached for his cock and began to stroke it and his voice grew louder and more strained against the insurmountable pleasure the Doctor was forcing upon his body. His member was achingly hard in her fingers and she only needed to clumsily stroke it as she simultaneously thrust into him to bring him to his peak.

His voice was all the Doctor could hear—all she wanted to hear as the Doctor continued to thrust forward. The Master finished gasping, but the Doctor was still aching and needy. She thrust more roughly into him and forced more needy whimpers from his throat. She didn't need much more—it moved and rubbed against her clit and the Doctor was done with the Master. She ignored his voice as she focused on thrusting forward in a way that satisfied her throbbing need.

His voice was getting lower, more quiet, as the Doctor finally released and waves of pleasure washed over her. She thrusted through her orgasm and she could faintly hear the Master's moans, but she didn't care.

She had forgotten, but now it was over and she was starting to remember. 

She pulled herself out and carefully took off the harness before tossing it aside. And she laid down next to the Master. It was fitting that they were together like this—two destroyers of Gallifrey forever condemned to destroy one another. She caressed the Master's face and pushed the hair from his eyes. They were still gleaming. It was in that moment that the Doctor finally recognized the shining gleam in the Master's eyes for what they were—tears.

She didn't say anything. She silently brushed the tears away and wrapped her arms around him. They were the same now. They had always been the same, but now they both had an impossible wound etched onto their hearts. 

"Did it feel like you thought it would?" The Doctor's voice was truly gentle for the first time that night. She hated how vulnerable she sounded, but she needed to know. "Did you feel like a god?" She remembered the Master's words from all those years ago, from when he wore a different face.

The Master wanted to avoid the question—to make a joke or to mock the Doctor or to find some way to regain control, but his heart was bleeding and he wanted the Doctor's touch. "No," he didn't know how to describe it. When he learned the truth he felt a burning rage and a freezing anguish. He thought destroying the planet would expel all of that, but he was left with nothing else when it did. "It felt empty."

The Doctor considered letting the next question die in her throat, but she knew if she never asked that it would haunt her. She knew the hope was foolish and she'd been proven wrong so many times before, but still, a part of her was starting to hope again. Perhaps he had changed. She hardened her heart and her voice sounded cold as she spoke, "Do you have any regrets?"

"No," he said it quickly and anger rised in both of them. "They deserved it. You don't see it now, but you will, Doctor. And when you do, I think that you'll agree with me—the Time Lords deserved to be destroyed." The Doctor instinctively moved away from the Master. His touch felt poisonous, she could feel every emotion running through his mind—rage, betrayal, anguish. All of it was too much.

"You're wrong," but even the Doctor didn't believe her own words. She wanted to be angry and to scream at the Master, but the frightening truth was that she was afraid he was right. She had destroyed Gallifrey a long time ago because she thought it was necessary. And she had destroyed so much more because she believed it to be right. The Doctor knew just how malleable her own rules were. 

He turned to look at her and their eyes, both too old and too dark for their faces, stared into one another. He grabbed the Doctor's hand and their mirrored emotions blossomed in her mind. It wasn't just the Master's rage she felt, but her own. It wasn't just his pain she felt, but her own. It wasn't his fear she felt, but her own. And beneath it all was another emotion, one they both shared, it was warm and bright—utterly terrifying—and a word that neither of them would ever say. She ripped her hand from his grip and their minds became silent and empty once more.

The Master is what the Doctor was and what she could still be. She hated him, but more than that she feared him because she feared herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how to feel with how this fic turned out. I had a different ending in mind (a lot more fluffy one that ended with cuddling and the implication of healing from their shared trauma) but as I was writing the fic and approached the end ... that ending didn't really work for me anymore. I couldn't see the Doctor opening up like I wanted her to because she is still so afraid of her past. I'll have to write another 13/Master fic where they definitely cuddle sometime in the future! And due to that change of ending ... I feel like the ending I wrote is incomplete, so I might change that in the future. Idk.
> 
> I hope all of y'all enjoyed this, regardless. It's my first time writing pegging, so the sex scene (which is the entire fic lol) was really a struggle. And I'm not sure how the telepathy and Thirteen's ... issues came across, so any comments about that are highly appreciated. Anyway, thanks for reading!


End file.
